Once Upon A Chance

Chapter Three

This is not easy but I have to do it.

After contemplating for days, I decide to talk to my parents and tell them that I'm quitting my job. They will get mad, that's for sure, but I have to do this. It's time to take charge of my life.

But before making a decision, I asked Modern Mr. Darcy about his thoughts. It has occurred to me how much I take into consideration his advice. I know it's crazy to decide on something based on a newspaper editorial and emails from someone I only know by pen name. But come on, Modern Mr. Darcy makes a valid point—at least to me.

Or to everyone who's reading his editorial. He won't get that space if no one's reading it, right?

We spent about an hour exchanging email messages last night.

Miss Bennet,

I'm surprised that you take time to consider my advices. But remember that when you decide, think of yourself, not what I said or anyone else. It has to be about YOU.

Modern Mr. Darcy

___

Modern Mr. Darcy,

I know and that's why it's best for me to quit. I don't want to be unfair to my workmates, to my parents, and to myself.

If not now then when, right?

P.S. I don't know how to tell it to my parents without them getting mad.

A. Bennet

___

Miss Bennet,

Parents get angry. That's normal. But if you're firm with your decision, you're going to stick with it.

I'm not pushing you to quit. But if you decide to do so, bear in mind that you have to answer to the consequences and have plans set out. Good luck.

Modern Mr. Darcy

___

Modern Mr. Darcy

Thanks. Anyway, I'm going to tell them tomorrow. I'll update you if I ever get out alive. *kidding*

A. Bennet

Our conversation ended at around 11:00 p.m.

When I get out of my room, my parents are still in the kitchen. My mom is preparing her food for work, while dad is at the coffee table, reading the newspaper. I walk in to greet them and they seem surprised to find me still at home at this time.

"Ma, Dad," My voice is shaky. "Can I have a minute?"

"Why are you not prepared for work?" Mom asks, a tone of worry in her voice. "Are you not feeling well?"

"No. Uh, I mean I'm okay." My heart is beating furiously like it wants to get out of my chest. "There's something I have to tell you."

Dad nods and says he's willing to listen.  This is it. There's no turning back now.

"Aya, I have to be at the language center in forty minutes," Mom interrupts. I look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's 9:15 a.m.

"Just give me a minute," I say. Mom nods.

I don't move towards the coffee table where my parents are. Instead, I stay where I am, near the refrigerator, a few meters away from my parents.

"Ma, Dad," I gather all the courage I can muster before saying the next words. "I decide to quit my job."